nine2five 14 Picking Up the Pieces
by Marc Vun Kannon
Summary: Shaw has died, Chuck is saved, and now they need to find out what he was saved from. And just what did Bryce think he was doing, all those years ago?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N **Moving right along...**  
**

* * *

"_So they'll have two other projects beyond this one?"_

"_I'll bring him back to you."_

"_You. Drive."_

"_Have you ever heard of Remote Desktop?"_

* * *

He looked like he was sleeping. Casey held his torso, Morgan pulled his second leg up and over the lip of the crater to join the first, but Sarah only held her man's head, brushing her fingers through his curls and …the back of his head felt funny. She stroked it, felt bare skin. He'd been shaved.

Casey was being more practical. "He's alive. Got a pulse, respiration."

Somehow she knew that, feeling curiously calm. The drug Shaw gave her kept her from panicking but that had worn off, leaving her in the heart of her storm. Numb? She pressed her hand to Chuck's chest, felt it rise and fall. _Lub. Dub._ So calming.

No shirt, just bandages. "Why doesn't he wake up?" Why bandages? Did Shaw do that? He must have, the Ring wouldn't have. Would they? What did they have planned? Did Shaw know? How could he die knowing something like that?

"Is my name Ellie?" asked Casey, sounding utterly unlike himself. He pulled his hand out from under, found smears of blood all over it. "Or Devon?" Sarah traced a finger over his palm, her face still. He folded Chuck's arms across his chest.

"It's your bedside manner, Casey, _so_ similar," said Morgan, nodding.

"Shut up, Grimes," said Casey. He slid his hand under Chuck's head, under Sarah's hand. "Sarah, you and Grimes take his legs. Let's get him…where he needs to go."

* * *

Carina felt the ground tremble, or maybe that was just the pounding of her heart. The sounds from inside the warehouse, and the cloud of dust billowing from the doors and windows, were a bit more definitive. Her life didn't do her the favor or flashing before her eyes, so she went and hunted it down. It hadn't gone far. She'd only traded one box for another, and there wasn't much else to do in either one, although this one had a more interesting view.

They came out, staggering, and for a second she contemplated going to help but decided that would be more than a little inappropriate. They were carrying Chuck out, Casey holding his shoulders, Sarah and Morgan each had a knee. Shaw was nowhere in sight.

They brought him over to Casey's car, where the big man opened the rear door and laid Chuck's upper body on the seat, before switching places with Morgan. Morgan climbed in and guided Chuck's head as the others pushed his legs, backing up and climbing out the other door. Sarah got in with Chuck as Casey got in the driver's seat. Morgan opened the side door but didn't get in. He caught something and shut the door, and the Crown Vic roared out of the lot.

Morgan walked over to the Porsche, and got in the passenger side. "They said Ellie's location was classified," he said, handing her the keys.

"I'm sorry," she said, taking them and plugging them into the ignition without looking directly at him. She knew where he'd rather be.

"It's not your fault." He was looking out the window, at the warehouse, Shaw's sweet ride, anything but her.

She noticed. "It's about the only thing that isn't." _Thanks for the reminder._

He shrugged, unwilling to belabor the point. He had other things on his mind, and he didn't want to think about her anymore. Didn't want to tell her about Shaw and add to her obvious sense of guilt. That would only be cruel and Morgan wasn't a cruel man. "What are we waiting for?"

"Someone has to watch the building until the rest of the team arrives. I mean–"

"I know what you meant. For what it's worth, they haven't dropped you from the team yet."

"They've got bigger fish to fry than me."

Morgan looked at his hands, saw the blood he'd picked up helping move Chuck. "True." He caught her not looking and turned them palms down. "Sorry."

"Don't be."

Just then a car pulled into the lot, followed moments later by a black panel wagon that might as well have screamed 'Federal Agents'.

"That's it?" asked Morgan. "No tank? No air support?"

The Lensmen twins got out of the car, but aside from a nod in their direction ignored the pair in the Porsche. Men poured out of the truck, preparing to rappel down into the hole and secure the site.

"Now we can go." She turned the key. "What happened to Shaw?"

* * *

Ellie's phone rang and she leaped to answer it. Diane had told her that a quick response would likely be a good response, so she did her part to make it quicker. "What's the word, General?"

"Ellie–"

Oh, God, a first name. Was that good news or bad? Was she softening the blow?

"–I just heard from Sarah, they've recovered Chuck and are bringing him to you now."

_Oh, God!_ "Why?"

Beckman looked unhappy. "I'd like to say it's because you're his sister, but according to Sarah he's been injured, and he's not responding in any way."

_Not responding? _"What kind of injuries?"

"They can't tell. Agent Shaw wrapped him in bandages, and I don't imagine they were blood-soaked when he did."

"Didn't they ask him why?"

"He's dead, Ellie. Threw Chuck to his team as the base collapsed under him. Whatever he did, whatever his reasons, they went down with him."

"What do you mean, 'whatever he did'?"

"He went into the base alone, Ellie, he drugged Sarah and left her behind. According to her, he felt she wasn't in shape for it."

"She wasn't. Bone glue is no substitute for healing."

"Yes, well, going in alone is no substitute for proper procedures. The name of this game is the recovery of actionable intelligence, not James Bond heroics."

"He saved my brother!"

"Believe me, that will be the keynote of my eulogy." General Beckman's image vanished.

Ellie had nothing further to think about Beckman that she hadn't already thought before, so she didn't bother. Instead she put on her doctor face, and got ready for the imminent arrival of a person with his own blood on the outside of his body.

* * *

Ellie stood by with a gurney, ready and waiting for a call from wherever Casey decided to access the building, when the doors crashed inward, and a man in coveralls pushed a box on wheels into her domain. "John?"

Casey turned and pointed to his name patch. "Please, Doctor, call me Ladyfeelings. I have a reputation to uphold." He spotted the gurney, reached into his bin and pulled out a bunch of cloth, which he threw on the floor. "We're here."

"One second," said a muffled voice inside the box, and then Sarah rose, straight up, with Chuck in her arms. Casey held the bin tightly so it wouldn't shift under her as Ellie brought up the gurney, letting go only to grab his end of Chuck's body and lay it face down. Sarah climbed out of the bin while Ellie sprayed warm water on her brother's back, and pulled the stand holding her tools over to the gurney. She picked up a pair of scissors and started cutting through the bandages. "What happened?"

"Unknown," said Ladyfeelings, gathering up the cloth he'd used as camouflage and throwing it in the bin. "Shaw carried him out of there like that, threw him to us as the floor collapsed." He watched as she used cotton swabs to loosen the cloth from the skin without opening whatever wounds had put the blood there in the first place.

"I'm seeing lots of little holes in him, like hundreds of needle marks up and down the length of his back, along his spine."

"They injected something?"

"Looks like," she replied, her attention focused elsewhere. They left her to it as they went into the other room, Sarah to call Beckman, and Casey to check in with the team at the warehouse.

* * *

"You don't have to do this, you know," said Morgan.

"I know," said Carina. Sarah could hunt her down no matter where she went. "I left something here, though." They turned the corner to where the cells were. "Hey!"

The man in coveralls turned, spray bottle in one hand, squeegee in the other. "Can I help you, Agent Miller?"

"Yes, you can, Mister…Muffin. I need three things from you. First, put that stuff away. Second, get some kind of fixative or sealant, to make sure _that_–" she pointed at the bloody handprint "–isn't accidentally washed off." She put her hand on the cell control, and the door slid open.

"What's the third thing?" asked Muffin, putting his equipment back in the cart.

She walked right by him into the cell, head high, and turned. "Close the door, please."

Muffin nodded, and obliged her. As the door slid shut he turned to Morgan. "You coming back down to IM, Mr. Grimes?"

Morgan stopped looking at Carina. "No, not unless they've got a bed that looks softer than that one." He gestured at the pallet in the cell, yawning. "I've been up all day, and I work nights." Not to mention that he'd been brought in by Casey's team, wasn't entirely sure where he was, and certainly didn't know how he'd get back home from here if he did. Probably wouldn't be worth it anyway, since he'd just have to go to work in a few hours.

"Nothing like that down here, sir," said Muffin. "I can lock the door open on this cell here, if you like, and you can get some shuteye in there."

"You read my mind."

* * *

"Good afternoon, team," said General Beckman, looking rather down. "I hope you've all had a better—Ellie? What's Chuck's status?"

"It's…unchanged, General. His autonomic nervous system is functioning, but that's the only thing that is. Whatever they did to him down there, it involved shutting down all of Chuck's higher brain functions. I see only the one wave, even on my father's machine."

"That damn Shaw," fumed Casey. "If he weren't dead I'd kill him myself, leaving us in the dark like this."

"Before you vent any further, _Ladyfeelings_, " said Ellie, "You should know that your superior officer already expressed many of the same sentiments before you came in, and I examined Chuck with as much an eye for 'actionable intelligence' as his actual welfare."

"You found something?" asked Sarah.

Ellie lifted a tray and placed it on the table. "I found these in some of the holes in his back." With a pair of tweezers she picked up…nothing. "You can't see it unless you're real close, but this is a microfilament sensor. The injections were apparently made to put these into place. I'm guessing that when Shaw freed Chuck he did it the hard way, and some of these were broken off."

"Can you determine what they were for?"

Ellie blew out a sigh. "I can try, but, as a first approximation, there's really not a lot to measure in the spine except electro-chemical activity, and with his brain shut down there's not a lot of that, except for his reflexes."

Sarah stiffened. "The skills are reflexes, aren't they?"

"They're a big part, yes, and for some they're the only part. But if they were trying to study the skills, they would have needed a way to force Chuck's brain to access them and they couldn't have been one hundred percent successful in the short time they had him."

Casey snorted, more dismissive than a mere grunt. "So Shaw cut their little brain-drain short, huh? That's better than nothing, I suppose, but since I doubt he saw those little hairs any more than I can, I stand by my statement."

"Then maybe this will change your mind." Ellie lifted a second try onto the table, with a couple of disks and even a flash drive.

"Where did you find those?" asked the General.

"They were wrapped up in the bandages against his stomach, I didn't see them until after I rolled him into the bed. Hopefully there's something on them we can use."

"Can you do it?"

"I've got Manoosh, he's been a real godsend…"

"If he can pull this off I'll put him on salary."

Casey picked up a disk. "Probably loaded with viruses."

"Obviously precautions will need to be taken," agreed the General. "Ellie, you've changed my mind. Even if these disks yield nothing, clearly Daniel Shaw knew his duty and went above and beyond to do it. If anyone deserves this medal he does."

"What medal, General?"

Beckman sighed. "Brace yourself, Colonel, you're not going to like this…"

* * *

Morgan was twisting in bed when Casey walked into the cell. "Grimes, Grimes, wake up!"

Morgan sat up, shouting. "Casey! Casey, thank God it's you! I was having the worst dream, man, I dreamed they took Chuck's brain and transplanted it into Frankenstein–"

"Shut up, Morgan. I need your phone."

"My phone? What's wrong with your phone?"

"My phone doesn't have that nifty Star Wars version of Angry Birds on it."

"Oh!" Morgan fished it out of his twisted clothing and handed it over. "I didn't know you played–"

Casey snatched it from his hand. "I don't, idiot, but I need to call your job and this was the easiest way to get the number."

"My job? What are you calling my job for? You're not gonna get me fired, are you?"

"I wish," muttered Casey. "Hello, can I speak to your manager please?...Good evening sir, I'm Colonel John Casey, United States Marines…Thank _you_, sir. I'm calling about one of your assistant managers, Mr. Morgan Grimes. No, sir, nothing like that. I'm calling to inform you that Mr. Grimes will not be available to work for the next several days…No sir, that's classified. He'll be dining with the President tomorrow night, sir, with more public honors to follow. Thank you, sir, for your cooperation." He tossed the phone back to Morgan in disgust and walked away.

"Casey! Casey, man, wait up! What the hell was that all about, who's giving me honors? I didn't do anything. It's dishonest, I won't accept."

Dammit, now Casey had to respect him again. "You know that and I know that, but no one else knows that and that's the way it's gotta be."

"Why?"

"Because if anyone in authority finds out what really happened in that attic she goes to prison at the very least," said Casey, pointing at Carina. "You saved Agent Miller, that's the story _I_ told, God help me. You materially contributed to and participated in the rescue of Agent Carmichael, and that _is_ the truth. And because the damn Costa Gravans have already given you their Medal of Valor we have to do the same or look stingy."

Carina applauded, lightly.

"Shut it, Miller," snapped Casey. "None of this would have happened if you'd kept your trap shut."

"Hey, don't yell at her, Casey, she's sorry, already," said Morgan, surprising himself. "Fine, I'll take the medal, but that doesn't mean I'm going to keep it. I'll give it away, like I did the last one."

Well, there goes _that_ moment of respect. "You don't give away national honors, you idiot! You have to appear on that stage with that medal or it'll cause an international incident. Granted, not much of one, but still…" Casey grabbed him by the shoulders, resisting the urge to strangle a national-hero-to-be. "Who'd you give it to?"

"Anna, of course. She did all the work, she deserved it–"

"Great." Casey fished out his own phone, pressed speed dial. "General? Ma'am, you're not going to like this…"

* * *

**A/N2** Comments appreciated, as always.**  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N** A little talky, lots of backstory in this one. I was going to do a story about Bryce, but this explains his motivations just as well. Maybe I'll do one anyway, from his POV. Even this one involves a bit of guesswork from Orion.

* * *

_"Why doesn't he wake up?"_

"_That will be the keynote of my eulogy."_

_"Close the door, please."_

_"Who'd you give it to?"_

* * *

Casey came around the corner, bag in hand, looking at the open and empty cell B. "Where's Grimes?"

"Secret Service came and got him, said something about how he needed a new suit for his dinner with the President." Carina stood and walked up to the door. "What's that smell? Is this some sadistic new torture, are you a sadist, Casey, bringing a bag of greasy disgusting take-out when you know I haven't eaten all day?"

Casey waved the bag in her direction. "The CIA is not obligated to provide meals to people who occupy cell block A of their own volition, Miller. But if you think chinese is too disgusting for your elevated and educated palate–"

"Gimme!"

"Hold on, hold on." Casey set the bag down, where the smell of the food could get into the cell but Carina couldn't reach it. "Gotta make sure Walker's not around."

"You _are_ a sadist, Casey," said Carina, as he walked away to check around the corner. "You know she's not anywhere near here."

"How could I know any such thing?" asked Casey as he strolled back.

"One, her significant other is in Medical, no way she'd leave him–"

He poised his hand over the door switch but didn't press it. "She might."

"Two, you just called her Walker, which you would never do if there was a chance in Hell of her hearing you."

Casey grimaced, and snarled, "Nuts!" He slapped the switch, standing well clear of the bag as Carina lunged for it. "Secret Service, huh? I thought Grimes got a new suit for the _last_ medal he didn't deserve but got anyway."

Carina stopped drinking wonton soup from the container long enough to answer. "A Ring suit, Casey. Not great quality, considering they were planning to kill him in it."

"Cheap bastards." He shook his head sadly. "Whatever happened to bad guys with style?"

"Us."

He smiled, Casey-style. "You got me there. Still, it's hard to take them seriously as a first class operation. That base of theirs, I only felt three charges and the whole thing folded like a house of cards."

"Maybe that's why they do it."

"Why?"

"So we don't take them seriously. Up until now, who handled the case? Shaw, all by himself. If it weren't for Bryce Larkin we'd still be clueless." She paused. Talking, not eating. "How did Bryce know about it, anyway? Did Shaw ever mention him?"

"Nah. Larkin was working with a rogue–" Casey stopped talking.

"A rogue what, Casey?"

"I gotta go."

"Casey! A rogue _what_?" He vanished without answering. She speared a wonton. "Definitely a sadist."

* * *

Anna Wu pulled the sheet from her new secured printer as she heard a knock on her door. She readied her gun, just in case. "Who is it?"

"Candygram."

"Dark chocolate, or light?"

"Milk."

She opened her door, satisfied with the exchange. Spy codes are usually cool, but this one was kind of lame. "Let me get my coat."

Not what he expected, and he reached for his own gun. "I'm just supposed to pick up a package for the courier bag, Miss Ling."

"There's been a change of plans, apparently just giving my Indian-giver ex-boyfriend his trinket back isn't enough." She handed him the paper. "Your part is on the bottom." She went to get her coat as he read the new orders.

"You're the courier?"

"Either that or the package," she said. She fluffed her hair up over the collar. "Let's go, they're holding a plane for me." For _her!_ This was so cool!

* * *

When he entered the door to the outer Medical office, Casey heard the sound of a man's voice coming from the inner recovery room, where Sarah would be until Chuck woke up, even if the building was on fire during an earthquake. He ran to the door, but the only things he saw on the other side were Ellie and Sarah, staring at a computer screen, and grinning. It wasn't even Chuck's voice, just Shaw's. _"He was protecting his partner, and the Agency. I would have done the same thing myself. Maybe without the stealth bombers, but perhaps that's just me."_

"What's this?"

Sarah pressed a key, and the voice stopped. "They brought us Shaw's computer, so we could go over whatever data he had on the Ring. That was him defending a newbie who called in a tactical strike without authorization, when he thought his partner had been duped by a rogue operative."

Casey grunted at the display of mercy. "That's CIA business. Beckman would've torn him a new one, and so would I."

"That's because you're a heartless NSA goon, John," said Ellie. "I thought the tank was a nice touch."

"I appreciated it too," said Sarah. "I hope his partner thanked him."

Casey's lip curled. "I get it, this is torture. You two heard about Carina and now you're torturing me back, aren't you? Next thing you know, you'll both be telling me you fell in love at first sight, with full descriptions."

One female head shook in denial. "I could never."

"Me neither, that would be dishonest."

"It was at least five minutes for me."

The other female head turned in shock and betrayal. "No fair. I was gonna say five minutes!"

"Can we talk about spy stuff now?" said Casey, head bowed. He looked up, checking for incoming banter and spotted none. "Speaking of rogue operatives, Carina just reminded me of who else knew about the Ring besides Shaw."

"Who was that?" asked Ellie, as Sarah got wide-eyed.

"Bryce Larkin," she breathed.

Ellie must not have been read into that part. "Bryce Larkin? The guy who betrayed Chuck, who died just a few years ago?"

_Heh! _"Larkin's faked his death quite a few times, and done it for real twice, the second time trying to destroy the Intersect. He had to leave that job to Chuck, but our boy downloaded it instead and saved all our lives."

Larkin trusted Chuck? That didn't sound right. "He was a traitor?"

"Of sorts. Completely compromised, just like you."

_Was he calling her a…? _"I'm doing this for Chuck."

Casey shrugged. "So was he. Or for Orion, which is the same thing, since Orion did it for Chuck."

"Dad was trying to destroy his own invention?"

"It wasn't his invention anymore, was it?" said Casey, waving in the general direction of the Intersect Room and all it stood for. "Putting operational skills into a strategic tool makes no sense."

"Until Chuck showed them how much more could be done with it. They would have tried to test it on him, wouldn't they?"

Casey looked grimmer than he usually did. "I'm sure one of their bright boys had the idea."

"I'm sure Dad did." _That's why he wanted it destroyed._

"Orion's enemy was Roarke, and Fulcrum," said Sarah. "I wonder what he knows about the Ring?"

The computer chimed, and Sarah looked down to see the paused image of Shaw in mid-report vanish from the screen as it went black.

NOT VERY MUCH.

* * *

"Sir, our teams have reported in, there are no traces of Agent Shaw's body so far."

Lensman One looked at Two, unhappy. "They're not gonna like this. Who calls it in?"

"Doesn't matter, they can't tell us apart anyway."

* * *

"Do you know what they did to Chuck?" asked Sarah.

Orion didn't type a reply. Instead his distorted voice came through the speaker, his purple pixelated silhouette on the screen. "Only a bit. The Ring is much better at hiding itself than Fulcrum ever was, and without Bryce as my eyes and ears I'm limited in what I can do."

"Why not work with Shaw?"

"Shaw's obsessions would have made any long-term partnership unsustainable. Bryce and I had the same motivations."

"Screwing Chuck over," sneered Casey.

"Colonel Casey, if you saw a wrecking ball heading for someone's head, would you hesitate to knock them to the ground?"

"No."

"Then don't blame me for doing what I had to do to save Chuck from the likes of you. I've known he was special since he was nine years old. I had to do something to keep him off the CIA's radar, and luckily I had Bryce there to help me."

"What does luck have to do with it?"

"I found him snooping around Fleming's test results, the same night I was, but he was trying to change them. They would have caught him if I hadn't stepped in. I sounded him out about Chuck, and we came up with something different."

Sarah snapped, "So _you_ orchestrated the frame-up in Fleming's class?"

"No, I could never have done something like that, no one who knows Chuck would ever—but Bryce is a different man than me. I knew what had to be done, the right as his father was mine, the duty was mine, but Bryce came up with his own way to do it. He was my agent, but never my tool."

"Some best friend," said Ellie.

"Eleanor, don't judge. You know what kind of lives Sarah and Colonel Casey lived before they met Chuck, the kind of people they were. Greatness comes at a cost, and Bryce was very great. What he did was harsh, but he's had a harsh life. Chuck was the only purely good thing he knew in the world, and Bryce would have done anything to preserve him."

Ellie yelled at the screen, "Like stick him in a jar shaped like the Buy More? Put him on a shelf with a label, 'do not open, _ever'_?"

Orion waited until she ran down. "That wasn't his fault, Eleanor. He couldn't have known that Jill would betray Chuck too, or use his name to do it."

"Then it was a bad plan. He just…_assumed _it would work out, he never bothered to check."

"He wasn't supposed to, the plan cut him off too, the most heroic thing I've ever seen. Plus it would have destroyed him if he _had_ known, he would have gone after her or back to Chuck, and that would have undone everything. So I never told him, never let him find out. He'd left Chuck's future in my hands and I left him in yours."

Ellie's voice was cold, cold."You finally did something right, you left him alone."

The distortions almost hid the pleading. "You spent years trying to get him over that, do you think I did any less? If he'd simply tried I would have been there."

Ellie slumped, remembering all her own failed attempts to jump-start her brother's life. "But he never tried."

"No. On the bright side, that kept the government from finding him very effectively. But then Bryce sent him the Intersect."

"Why would he do that?" asked Sarah. "He had to know it would put him back on our radar."

"Yes, well, I'd been telling him what he wanted to hear about Chuck, I'm afraid. A stronger Chuck, the Charles Carmichael that Chuck always dreamed of being. When the chips were down Bryce acted on that faulty intelligence, and he sent the Intersect to the only man he could trust with it." Somehow he managed to make purple pixels look sad. "He wasn't happy with me when he found out otherwise. He went deep undercover to get away from me, and kept trying to get Chuck away from you, Sarah, even if it looked like he was trying to get you away from Chuck."

"But that would have just left Chuck with Casey." The heartless NSA goon.

"Until he came after you. Or not. From Bryce's perspective there may not have been much difference. He didn't trust me again until after I got the Intersect out of Chuck's head, and I never asked."

"So together the two of you managed to screw your boy over twice, all in the name of love," snarled Casey. He looked at the two ladies, equally appalled. "This is why they tell us to cut our ties."

"No one fights for an abstraction, Colonel," said Orion.

Casey looked insulted. "I fight for my country."

"No you don't, you're fighting for Chuck right now, we wouldn't even be having this conversation if you weren't. And somewhere in your past, there had to be someone in that country, a mother, a lover, a pet, _that's_ who you were really fighting for. Spiderman never really Hulked out until he thought about Aunt May."

Ellie and Sarah shared a smile. Like nerd father…

_Nuts! _"Fine, I'm fighting for Chuck. We all are, so let's get on with it."

"I am, Colonel. I've been processing all the files on Shaw's machine since I first got access. My Intersect may not know kung fu but it does what it's supposed to do."

"Let me get my wheelbarrow for a trip to the salt mines."

"Your suspicion is justified, I suppose, Colonel–"

"Geez, ya think?"

Orion's tone got softer, distracted. "There's a lot of raw data in here, but I'm using the contents of the disk you captured as the seed…"

"Seed?"

"Yes, the…seed of the flash. It's why the computer Intersect never worked very well, it had no intuition, no perception, nothing to connect the data to. Nothing to fight for."

Casey growled, "You've made your point."

"With the disk as the seed, hopefully the Intersect will find what they were trying to do with–"

"Orion?"

No answer.

"Dad?"

"Oh boy. Brace yourself, Colonel, you're not going to like this."

* * *

**A/N2 **I'm always looking for a happier ending. I've never been a big fan of the purely evil villain, Bryce had to have a reason for doing what he did, not simply selfishness on a galactic scale. I can't believe that Chuck would have let such a purely manipulative person into his life. Even the Ring has reasons for what they do.**  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N **The calm before the storm. The last scene has extensive playback dialog mixed with thoughts. I rendered the dialog in italics, so the thoughts had to be rendered in some other way. I used bold.

* * *

_"Whatever happened to bad guys with style?"_

"_I thought the tank was a nice touch."_

_" That wasn't his fault, Eleanor."_

_" Fine, I'm fighting for Chuck ."_

* * *

_Lub. Dub._

_Lub. Dub._

The woman who would be known to the world forevermore as Sarah Lisa Bartowski sat next to her husband's bed, head on her husband's chest, listening to his heart beat, slow and steady. Her hand, on his chest. His ring, on her hand. A gold circle, deathless and endless.

So calming.

Chuck had made her a promise, with that ring, and he always kept his promises. He made her face up to the things she did and had done, swallow the pain, absorb it, grow from it. Chuck made her what she was, a real girl with a real life. He could never be gone from her world.

She didn't deserve him, but who could? In the great cosmic game of Spin the Bottle, she'd simply gotten lucky.

She took his hand in hers, his ring between her fingers. "Round and round and round it goes, where it stops..." She took her hand away. "Hey, look at that. I win again." _Give me my prize, Chuck._

He took a breath. His heart beat. Prize enough, for now.

She needed more. She wanted more. She put her fingers over his, pressed 1-2-3-4. _Status?_

Lub-Dub-Lub-Dub_, _his heart beat back. _Green._

She trembled. She could do this. She _would_ do this. Failure was not an option.

Thank God for Orion.

* * *

"What am I not going to like this time, Colonel?" asked General Beckman.

_Where to begin? _"Well, General, we were conferring with Orion."

"You're right, I don't like it."

"Believe me, General, that's the part you like."

"Let's be precise, Colonel. It's the part I'm going to dislike least."

"Uh…yes, ma'am. Anyway, Orion contacted us in the Intersect area."  
"I don't like that even more. The Intersect area is supposed to be the most secure intelligence site in the world."

"If it is, it's Orion's doing."

"That's the worst news so far."

"Not at all, General. He observed the construction remotely, and put back doors in the design that no one noticed even as we built them for him. This way he kept others from doing the same."

"At this point, Orion himself is just a pimple on the ass of the things I don't like."

Casey brought all his skills as a combat Marine to bear, not to laugh out loud. "That's actually a good thing, General, since it means our communication with him was about as secure as such things could be. Anyway, he hacked Shaw's computer while we were talking."

"That's terrible news, Colonel. All of our most secure intelligence is now in the hands of a reprobate, rogue scientist."

"It could be worse, General. It could be in the hands of the Ring. As it is, Orion has his own version of the Intersect chewing on the data now."

"This day just gets worse and worse. Here I thought we had the Intersect under control."

"It's not that bad, General. He is the inventor, and there aren't too many more people more committed to Chuck's well-being, and they all work for you."

"I see your point Colonel. A back-up to Chuck himself is a necessity. You're right, I should be glad this whole mess is in his hands and no others."

"Well, ma'am, that's the part you're not going to like."

* * *

Casey tried his hand on the door, but the scanner didn't have his biometrics in it, so he was reduced to pounding on the door to get their attention.

"Hi, John. Come on in."

Casey entered the room as Ellie went to the console, looking around at the unfamiliar room with no small degree or wonder. He'd been in rooms like this one before, stark, sterile, blazingly white when they weren't spewing chaos into unsuspecting minds. He'd seen several after having been blown up. He'd never seen one like this before, panels folded out, revealing masses of circuitry and wiring as Manoosh tinkered, head and shoulders inside the wall. "What are you doing in here?"

Ellie started typing. "It was the one room in the complex where the paint wasn't peeling off the walls." Beckman hadn't taken Orion's analysis of the Ring's actions very well. The thin doors of the recovery room allowed them to hear every scorching word, every oath. Chuck wasn't conscious of them and Sarah would not leave him, so Ellie stayed too, until Orion gave her a reason to honorably flee the field for the most insulated room on the continent.

_Yeah, I learned a few new words myself. _"I told her us talking to Orion was the part she was gonna like, but what I meant was, 'what are you doing? In here.' Sarah's nodded off in there." He pointed back to her office and the recovery room beyond.

"Oh. Well, Dad gave us some code for the upload that he thinks should help Chuck regain consciousness, in combination with the emitters Manoosh is adding to the panels."

Taking a big chance with his own son. "How does he know it'll work?"

Her fingers accelerated, the keyboard like a minigun of characters. "The Ring needed a way to restore Charles Carmichael for interrogation, if they had him that long. Dad stole it from them."

"How'd he do _that_?"

Her breathing slowed, her fingers didn't. "Shaw."

"I thought he said he wouldn't work with Shaw."

"He didn't, but Shaw used a smartphone app to find Chuck, and Dad piggybacked off of that. He was able to use the phone to hack the machines, enough to get them to restart Chuck's nervous system, but he burnt out the phone doing it. The code is Ring code, but without their hardware we have to use the emitters in an upload to do the same thing for his higher brain functions."

"So he doesn't know."

"No, John, none of us know," she shouted, her fingers typing with furious speed. "We do what we can and we pray it's enough."

"What can _I_ do?" _I'm already praying._

Fingers stopped, head dropped. "Help Manoosh. It'll speed him up if he has someone to hand him things."

* * *

Anna stayed in her seat as the plane taxied off the runway. The flight had been smooth enough but riding on solid ground was a bit bumpy. The city looked a lot darker from ground level, and she wondered how hard it would be to get something to eat.

Finally the plane stopped, and the sound of the engines changed, and she guessed it would be safe enough to stand. As she walked to the front of the plane something went _thunk!_ against the side, and the door popped open. A man stuck his head in the opening and looked at her. "Agent Ling?"

"You can call me Julie."

"You don't look like a Julie."

God, she was so tired of that code phrase. Sarah and her idiot friend what's-her-name had said the same thing back in Hawaii months ago, and the guys in the front seat thought it sounded cute. Heartily bored, she gave the response. "That's what I said."

Proper signals exchanged, he smiled. "Welcome to Washington. The Agency sent a car." He noticed the bag in her hand. "Can I take that for you?"

"No you may not."

No surprises there. "Any other bags?"

"Nope," she said, "Not staying long."

"Very good, Agent." A limo drove up, windows dark. "I believe that's your car now." Not that either of them were willing to trust to mere belief when perfectly good code phrases were handy. Her escort satisfied, he opened the door for her himself.

Anna looked inside the car and froze. General Beckman sat there, waiting for her. "Get in, Agent Ling. We need to talk."

* * *

John Casey walked around the corner the next morning, pushing a TV monitor on a wheeled cart, and Carina sat up at the sight of him in his coveralls. "What's this?"

"Couldn't sleep. They're gonna try bringing Graboid back today, Doctor and her pet nerd were up all night in the lab. They're catching a few while Orion gives their changes the once-over."

"And where were you?"

"Not in the lab, that's for sure." He shuddered, not only at the memory of suddenly finding himself taking orders from the little guy but at how badly he'd botched the job. Give him a squad at his back and a clear field of fire any day. "I kept myself busy, though." He positioned the TV in front of her cell, plugged it in, and held up a DVD. "Made this for you."

"What is it?"

"Season finale for Downton Abbey."

"You're joking."

"Ya think? Watch it and find out." He inserted it into the built-in player and placed the remote on the floor by her door before stepping back to hit the door control.

By the time she stood up with the remote in her hand he was gone. She clicked the remote, and the TV lights came on. The screen only showed a few words, though, identifying the recording as one of Casey's after-action reports, with a date stamp. She didn't have time to interpret the date before the audio started.

"…_could've gone better, but I have to say that that was a brilliant piece of improvisation by Agent Miller."_

"_You say that almost as if you mean it, Colonel." _Beckman's voice.

"_I do mean it, and I'm not ashamed to say it. She saved the mission and myself. I'm only sorry I didn't say that to Agent Miller directly, as Agent Shaw did. Knowing him, I don't think he would have said anything either if it hadn't been for Agent Bartowski. She rightly pointed out that I would have said as much to Chuck, and I couldn't in honor refuse to do so to Agent Miller."_

"_Sarah was quite right–" _

The audio stopped and the words disappeared, replaced by a still of General Beckman's face in mid-word. New text appeared, again specifying the event, date, and time, without any other hints. Carina paused the disk. She knew the when and where of the last recording now. Shaw had said something nice, after the bar fight. Casey had agreed with him, in a back-handed, 'grunt, grunt, sneer, sneer' John Casey sort of way, and Sarah…Sarah had a phone call, the first word out of her mouth was 'Hannah', and she'd slammed the van door in her friend's face in disgust.

She felt that same disgust now, but not for Sarah.

She unpaused the recording, and General Beckman started to speak._ "Where is Agent Miller? Her report of last night's action hasn't yet crossed my desk." _

Sarah spoke up from her inset, looking unhappy_. "None of us knows, she just walked away and left the clean-up to us. But I'm sure she'll be here, General."_

Beckman looked something other than unhappy_. "Your loyalty does you credit, Agent Carmichael, but 'just walking away' is not acceptable behavior for an agent on scene."_

No, it isn't, and Carina knew it.

"_I've known her for years, General, her best and perhaps her only friend, and last night the role she was playing required her to almost kill me."_

**Nothing 'almost' about it.** Carina remembered the rage that consumed her that night, but it meant nothing to her now.

Beckman nodded_. "That can't have been easy, even for as loose a cannon as Agent Miller is known to be."_

"_She's not that loose, General." _**Thank you, Sarah.**_ "Something happened to her last night, and I'd like to get to the bottom of it, if I may."_

"_You may, Sarah. Her work yesterday was exceptional and has earned the benefit of your doubts, as well as my own. The Intersect Project has tolerated some pretty loose cannons already, it can tolerate another, but try to tighten her as much as you are able. You seem to be good at that."_

"_I will, General."_

"_Good. Moving on–"_

Another inset window opened_. "Agent Miller reporting."_

**Just in the nick of time.**

"_Good morning, Agent Miller," _said the General_. "Agent Carmichael and I were just discussing your absence. I trust you are fully recovered from the events of last night. I understand they were more than a little stressful."_

"_Last night was hard on me, I will admit, but we each have our own ways of relieving a little stress, and I found the cure for what ailed me."_

The playback stopped, but not her memory of the rest of that awful meeting, when she'd accused Sarah of not having her back. She'd almost assaulted a fellow agent, and she did abandon her, but all Sarah wanted was to understand…

Chuck's face appeared on the screen, and she realized that she'd forgotten to stop the playback. He looked a little spacey, his face slack, as he spoke to a man sitting with his back to this camera. _"I was juggling grenades."_

The man sounded like he was talking to a child. _"Yes you were. How many grenades, Chuck?"_

Chuck sounded drugged, or hypnotized. _"Six. That way the others had their hands free. But the ceiling was too low, I couldn't take any more."_

"_Did you drop the grenades, Chuck?"_

Now Chuck's face twitched, emotion leaking through. _"Casey was hurt, I…threw them away to help him. He knocked the last one out of my hand."_

"_They went off, didn't they?"_

His face was calm again. _"Yes…"_

"_Do you remember what happened after they went off?"_

"_No."_

"_We need to know what happened after they went off, Chuck. Do you want to help us?" _The man made a gesture to someone off-screen.

"_Chuck, we need to know, Carina's in danger." _Sarah's voice_._

Chuck's face came alive, distressed_."I have to help Carina."_

"_Yes, please, Chuck." _Sarah sounded frantic. **When was this?** She skipped back to the beginning, noted the time. Where had she been? She couldn't remember, though, and skipped back to where she'd been.

"_What do I do?"_ He sounded so desperate, so willing.

"_You listen to my voice, Chuck," _said the man, waving again, probably to Sarah_. "Listen to me as I count backwards. I'll start at fifteen, you remember fifteen, you were there. Fourteen. Thirteen. Twelve. Eleven. Ten. Nine. Eight. You are _there_, Chuck, you are there on level eight, you are _in that stairwell_, Chuck. What happened, Chuck?"_

Sarah yelled from off-screen_. "Now, Chuck!"_

Chuck slumped in his chair, his head hitting the table.

The man looked at Sarah, and reached out a hand to touch Chuck. As he touched two fingers to Chuck's neck, Chuck's head came up, his expression firm and cold. He pushed against the table, knocking the man away. Chuck leaped over the table in a handspring and came down on top of the man's chair, pinning him against the floor with his own pen pointed at his eye_. "Who are you?"_

"_I'm Dr. Dreyfus," _said the doctor as calmly as he could_. "Who are you?"_

"_Charles," _said Sarah, and Chuck's head turned _. "Charles Carmichael, we meet at last. It's your plan Carina's following, isn't it?" _

**Wait a minute. What—?** Carina reversed back to the point where Sarah said "Now!" and watched the scene through again. She reversed again, and watched Chuck's face as his head came up. That was the face of the man she'd spoken to in the vault, but it wasn't Chuck.

"—_isn't it?"_

He knelt there, unmoving.

"_Isn't it?" _yelled Sarah.

Carina smiled at the tone. **Don't piss that woman off, Chuck, Charles, whoever you are!**

Charles nodded once, slowly_. "I'm sorry, Sarah." _He slumped once again.

Sarah came into view and pulled her husband over to lie on the floor as Dreyfus retrieved his pen and stood up._ "What was that?" _he asked.

Sarah pulled out her phone_. "Keep the pen, doctor. You're going to need it. Ellie…?"_

The playback skipped itself, a different scene from the same night. Sarah and General Beckman shared a screen.

"_But Charles Carmichael doesn't exist,"_ said Beckman.

"_He does now, General."_

**Good God.** She hit rewind, listened to that part again.

" _And Carina's out there, following a plan than no one knows about but her and a figment of Chuck's imagination."_

Beckman looked…flummoxed. _"Colonel Casey, your thoughts?"_

"'_Mad Dog' may be madder than we thought, but as far as Carina's concerned, this changes nothing. She's out there with dangerous intel, and we need to bring her in before they do. The treason issue is secondary, and I'm inclined to agree with Agent Bartowski that it's a ruse. Let Ellie worry about how many Intersects are bunking together."_

"_But General, if we issue a BOLO all that will do is convince her that she's been abandoned by us."_

Carina rested her head against the glass, shutting her eyes. It had convinced her. She should have known Sarah would never do that.

"_She's expecting some kind of contact signal from Chuck–"_

"_And she won't be getting one any time soon. I'm sorry, Sarah, but Colonel Casey's right, we have to worry about the effects here, not the cause. You'll have to kiss and make up later."_

The disk was blank after that. She went back to the beginning.

**No time like the present.**

She hit play.

* * *

**A/N2 **The Smackdown is next.**  
**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N** Article 15 of the Code of Military Justice provides for Non-Judicial Punishments. Just so you know.

* * *

_"What am I not going to like this time, Colonel?"_

"_We do what we can and we pray it's enough."_

"_Get in, Agent Ling. We need to talk."_

_"__Couldn't sleep.__"_

* * *

"_Charles Irving Bartowski, I'm going to kill you!"_

_She ran through the house looking for her little brother, who was understandably reluctant to come out and be killed._

_A door opened and she turned, but it was her father. "Hey, Eleanor, what's all the fuss about?"_

_She held up a chain, a medallion dangling, not as large as it should have been. The figure of a girl hung from it, the figure of a boy lay in her hand."He broke, it, Daddy. He broke Mom's necklace. I don't want to be here all alone." She tried to hand the items off to him._

_He refused to take it. "He's in your hands now, Eleanor. It's your job to keep him safe, but don't worry, I'll help you fix him."_

"_But I can't find him."_

"_Finding him, fixing him, there's no difference." Her father reached out a hand, his voice dropping an octave. "We'll find him, babe, we'll get him back."_

A hand stroked her cheek and Ellie opened her eyes. Devon sat there in the chair by the couch she was sleeping on, leaning close, his hand closer. "Devon?"

"Yeah, Babe, I'm here. Casey said you were gonna try and bring the Chuckster back today, and you'd need someone to help you celebrate."

She smiled. He was so transparent. "I'm so glad you're here." So glad she wasn't alone.

* * *

_Sarah danced around the kitchen, knives whirling in a well-choreographed ballet of death to enough onions, scallions, and peppers to feed the Russian army. Her man had to get up soon, and he would be hungry. The world tilted to her left and she looked there, but her glasses showed her only blackness. Useless things, no substitute for the sound of his voice, the touch of his hand. She flung them to the ground, and a piece of luggage fell from the counter and smashed them, setting her world right._

_She was upstairs, outside the bedroom door. "Chuck? Sweetie, you need to get up, we're getting married today." No answer._

_She stood by the side of the bed where her husband lay in darkness. "It's time to get up, Chuck." He lay still, breathing. She took his hand, felt the ring finger tapping 1-2-1-2 in rhythm to his heart. This wouldn't do. She felt around for the lamp._

FLASH!

The lights went on and Sarah sat up, stiff from the posture she'd been sleeping in, bent over her husband's body as he lay on the bed. Neither of them had moved for hours.

"Sarah, it's time to wake up," said Ellie gently, from her place by the light switch. "We need to get him ready for the procedure, and you need to get ready too. He _will_ wake up and he _will_ want to see you, so you want to look your best."

* * *

Morgan trudged through the kitchen, not his normally cheerful self. Fortunately his body knew its way around, since his mind was a million miles away.

"Hey, Morgan?"

He looked up, and saw one of his favorite clients at the window. "Hey, Alex," he said, before he could remember his instructions. "I mean, Miss McHugh. Something wrong with your eggs?"

"Just a shell fragment." She leaned in conspiratorially. "I'm worried about the chef. He's never done that before. Plus he's not smiling like he usually does, and it looks like someone tied weights to his ankles."

That poor guy. "Really?"

"You have to notice these things to be an FBI trainee, you know."

"That's funny, you sounded just like King Arthur–"

That was the last straw. She marched away from the window and into the kitchen itself. "What's wrong, Morgan?"

"Hey, you're not supposed to be in here!" He grabbed a hairnet from the box. "That's a health code violation!"

She grabbed the net and put it over her hair rather than get distracted by trivia. "Answer the question."

Morgan wanted nothing more than to get distracted by trivia, but…this was Alex, one of his favorite clients. She was nice, a former wait-person at a diner who didn't treat him like just staff. "It's…my friend, Chuck. He's in a coma, they're gonna try to bring him out of it today, but…"

"But they aren't sure it'll work?"

He shook his head.

"Oh, Morgan, that's awful." She moved in to give him a hug, but…she took his hand instead. "I'm so sorry."

Her hand was warm, her voice gentle. Morgan felt some of the despair just fall away from him. He took a deeper breath, and opened his mouth to–

The door slammed open, and Alex jumped as a large, angry-looking man stomped into the room. "What the hell are you doing here, Grimes?" he said, almost growling. "Today of all days." He grabbed Morgan's free hand and started dragging him off.

Morgan went willingly, or at least he didn't resist. "Hey!" He looked back as he went. "Alex, this is Casey. Casey, Alex…"

Alex found herself waving stupidly at the door as it flapped closed. Another of this guy Chuck's friends? She liked Morgan's way of showing grief better.

"Where's Morgan?" asked a female voice from the window. It was very direct, demanding, almost challenging.

Alex turned to the window, saw an Oriental woman staring at her. "Uh, hospital, friend, coma," she stammered out.

"Chuck?"

Another one? Alex nodded, wondering how this woman knew Morgan.

The tiny Asian lady shook her head. "Unbelievable. A step _down_ from janitor. Good job, Sarah." She looked up. "He was supposed to be here, I was supposed to give him this." She put a small velvet box on the sill. "Can you make sure he gets it by this afternoon? I have someplace I need to be."

Alex nodded and took the box, putting it away safely.

"And maybe a waffle? I'm starving!"

* * *

Casey walked around the corner in his janitorial finest, but Carina ignored him. This was one her favorite parts. _"She's already had one partner up and vanish on her, I'm not going to let it be two."_ Suddenly the picture went blank as Casey turned off the TV.

"Hey!"

He ignored her, ejecting the disk and putting in a plastic case before pushing the cart against the wall. He left the case on the cart and went into one of the interrogation rooms, coming out with a chair. He put it down in front of her cell and sat.

She sat too. "It's today, isn't it?"

* * *

They strapped Chuck into a wheelchair. Ellie and Sarah, since Manoosh wasn't allowed to know the identity of the Intersect Host. He looked so peaceful, breathing deeply, eyes closed. Closed? "How are we going to make him look?" asked Sarah.

Ellie looked around. "Grab that tape dispenser, will you?" She put it in Chuck's lap and took the handles of the chair. "Off we go."

Sarah got the doors as Ellie wheeled him into the Intersect room. She positioned the chair carefully, facing one wall, and set the brakes. Moving in front of Chuck, she took the tape dispenser and pulled off a short piece of tape, rolling it up, sticky side out.

Sarah watched as Ellie used the tape to hold his eyelid in an open position before doing the same to his other eye. "That looks more comfortable than what they did to him at Meadow Branch."

"Let's hope he wakes up and complains." Ellie squirted some saline into his eyes from a small bottle. "Let's go, it's not good for his eyes to be kept open like that."

Sarah sealed the door herself. Ellie was in the control room already, studying the upload as if there something else she do with it at this point, and Sarah took her hand. "It's all right, Ellie. We've done our best, let's just…pray that it's enough." Sarah left, to go and be with Morgan and Devon, sitting in Ellie's office.

Manoosh came in, sitting in the second chair. "Didn't want you to be alone."

Ellie smiled at him. "I'm not. Thank you."

Sarah had barely sat when Ellie's voice came from a number of speakers and earpieces, dreaded and welcomed at the same time. "Upload commencing."

* * *

He ran through a very large house. Someone was after him! Fear tickled the back of his head, ran down his spine. "Charles Irving Bartowski, I'm going to kill you!"

Charles Irving Bartowski. Was that him?

Up ahead he heard a noise, and he stopped to peer around the corner. A man walked out of a room, leaving the door open. Charles Irving Bartowski ran from his hiding place and ducked into the room before the door closed.

Computers lined the walls, blinked and beeped from shelves. He liked the sound. He felt…safe. He climbed up into a chair to see the big screen on the desk, the one that was blinking the most. _Press Enter to Return._

He pressed the button, to see what would return. The screen glowed bright white and expanded, the world tipped forward, and they fell into each other.

* * *

She heard him through the walls of the most insulated room on the planet. "_SARAH!"_

Morgan and Devon both winced.

"Ah! Sarah!" said Devon, trying to rescue his fingers from her grip. "Surgeon here. Kind'a needing the phalanges intact!"

"Yeah," said Morgan, also pulling away, "That's my flipping hand!"

Fortunately she lost a few seconds trying to unclench her hands, otherwise she would have pounced on the intercom and broken a few rules. Ellie was more controlled. "Graboid, how do you feel?"

There were a few horrible seconds of silence. Then, "Ellie?" His voice sounded rough from the shout.

_Sniff. _"Yes, Graboid?"

"I feel like someone was about to shoot me in the head and I was about to die."

Her voice wobbled over the speaker. "They did. You didn't."

"How are…um…is everyone else okay?"

_Now_ Sarah pounced. " Kaleidoscope and I will be glad to debrief you at whatever length you want, Eagle-Eye."

"Thank you," said Chuck softly. "Um, why am I tied to a wheelchair?"

"We, we did an upload to reverse whatever they did to you. That's why your eyes can't blink. We have to do a download now, otherwise you'll be stuck inside."

"What are you waiting for?"

"We…" she took a deep breath, "…don't know what it will do. You may…go away again."

"Oh." He didn't know what to say to that. There was no promise, no assurance he could give. All of these people had stood by him and he couldn't do anything in return. He could do nothing for the future, only for the right now that he had right now. "I love you guys, you know. Just wanted to make sure that part got said. Just in case."

A chorus of voices replied, and the Intersect let him track each one.

"Do what you have to do."

A brief pause, just long enough for her to wipe her eyes, and Ellie's voice came over the speaker, clear and strong. "Download commencing."

* * *

Carina watched Casey's face carefully, like her life depended on it. Watched him frown, watched him smile. He raised his wrist to his mouth, and said, "It's been an honor serving with you, Graboid." Then he sat patiently, watching her watching him.

Suddenly he winced, and pulled out his earpiece.

"What happened?"

He ignored her, instead moving the chair back to the room he'd taken it from.

"Casey, what happened?"

He walked up to her, ostentatiously avoiding the door controls, and said, "Congratulations, Miller. Now it's the General's turn."

* * *

Morgan was confused. "You didn't arrest her?"

"The whole point of this is to not arrest her, Grimes. She's still gotta face the music, though."

"Why? Why does she have to face any music? She didn't mean to do it. I'd have done the same."

"Probably, but she's got two things you don't have, a Federal Agent's badge and a brain."

"She's also got a heart, and don't try to tell me you don't know what that is, Mr. John 'I'm opening this door' Casey." Morgan looked from one to the other. "Or maybe I should start calling you Agents Kettle and Black, huh?"

"Shaw is dead," said Sarah. "She may not have meant for it to happen but it did and he is."

"Shaw went into that Ring base on his own, a Ring base we wouldn't have found without Chuck being in it. He sent you clues, didn't he, code and stuff. Which wouldn't have happened without Carina's little… oopsie. I'm not happy about what she did either, but if you're gonna blame her for the bad stuff, credit her with the good stuff too. It's only fair."

Sarah looked at Casey. Casey turned and slammed his way out of the recovery room. "Nuts!"

* * *

Not too long after that, Casey walked around the corner of the holding area and hit the switch. "The General's ready for you, Miller. Follow me."

Carina had no choice but to follow, since she had no idea where Casey was going. She wasn't all that familiar with this part of CIA headquarters, but it certainly didn't look like officer country, it looked more like…a gym? They fetched up outside the ladies locker room. "Take a shower, Miller, you're ripe. You have five minutes."

Carina was grateful to get out of the grimy clothes she'd been wearing for days, but that didn't last long. The hot water wasn't running, and someone put conditioner in the shampoo bottle. Her old clothes had vanished, and the underthings put out for her were too large, while the brown bodysuit was too small. This part of her 'punishment' smacked of Casey, although he wouldn't have entered the ladies lockers with a gun to his head. At precisely T plus five minutes she dragged herself out the door.

He handed her a mask. "To complete the ensemble." He wasn't smiling, or smirking, didn't seem to be enjoying her discomfort in any way. Maybe he wasn't. "Come on, Miller."

"Casey, what–?"

"Shut up, Miller. Protect your cover." He pulled open a door and shoved her through the opening but didn't go through himself. In the too-small clothes she stumbled onto the mat, and would have cursed but there were people present and she couldn't see very clearly with the mask on.

"Ah, Agent 15, so glad you could join us." Beckman's voice, and there to her left was Beckman herself, perched on a stool and looking quite pleased with herself. The General waved graciously. "I don't believe you've met Agent Ling." Her words were an instruction, and Carina remembered Casey's warning.

Anna Wu stepped onto the mat, wearing full protective gear and sticks in hand. "Agent Ling, this is Agent 15, the one I told you about," said the General.

"The one who put Morgan in danger?"

"Now, Agent Ling, what have I told you about letting emotions cloud your judgment? This is a professional meeting. Agent 15 has volunteered to participate in your demonstration."

Beckman turned to Carina. "I must say I was surprised that you did, since your record indicates no experience with this style of fighting. But that's the kind of moxie that separates the sheep from the goats, don't you agree?"

They both got slaughtered in the end, and so would she. Carina nodded her acceptance.

"What if I hurt her?" asked Agent Ling, sounding rehearsed.

"Agent 15 is one of our most experienced agents, Miss Ling, don't feel you have to hold back. But for your peace of mind, I've made sure to have a medical professional on hand." Ellie stepped onto the mat, hair gathered under a cap, masked, smocked, and gloved, as anonymous as possible. Not that Anna took a second look.

Beckman pressed a stud on her watch. "You may begin."

* * *

Casey strolled into the recovery room, where Morgan was keeping Chuck company. The download had knocked him out, but according to Orion's scanner his brain functions were restored."Come on, Grimes, time to go. You've got a dinner to get ready for."

Morgan stood, very conscious of Sarah's absence. "What's happening to Carina?"

Casey handed him the mask. "Don't you worry your little head about Agent Miller, Grimes. She's being NJP'd right now, by the General herself. Be right as rain in the morning."

"Oh. Well, that's all right, I guess…"

Casey took his arm. "She'll be glad you approve."

* * *

The contest was a bit…one-sided.

"How's the wedding planning coming?" asked Beckman. "Did you find a church, or are you going non-sectarian?"

"I found a nice reception hall, with a chapel," murmured Ellie back. "Like Sarah said, it's the people that matter, not the place. If I can get Sarah to sit still and face forward long enough, we can talk gowns, cakes, flowers, and the rest. And I need an officiant."

"Let me know if I can be of service."

Ellie repressed a smile, not that it would have been visible with the mask on. "Certainly an option, and I'll keep you in mind, but I think that degree of irony would probably make the universe implode. No offense meant."

"None taken." Her watch chimed. "Time, ladies."

Anna immediately stepped back. Carina sort of…crawled away.

"Well, Agent Ling, that was certainly an impressive display. I will seriously consider recommending the addition of this technique to our arsenal, if we can find qualified instructors. You are dismissed."

Anna bowed to the general and walked off the mat.

"General, may I assess Agent 15's condition?"

"Feel free."

Ellie stripped off her mask and her gloves. The cap fell to the floor as she stalked her prey. Carina made an effort to stand, a gazelle in no shape to leap away.

Ellie punched her in the stomach, paralyzing her breathing. Carina would have doubled over but for Ellie's strong hand around her throat, holding her against the wall. The doctor, the sister, leaned in close. "If you ever pull one of your stupid stunts again, if you endanger my brother or his team in any way, I will break you in half and my husband will sew the pieces together backwards. Do you understand me?"

Carina moved her head against Ellie's hand, the closest she could come to a nod. Ellie let go, and Carina slid down the wall. Eventually she managed to take a hoarse, shuddering breath, and the doctor turned away. "I'm done here."

"Very good, doctor." General Beckman got off her stool at last. "Agent Miller, we'll see you at tomorrow's briefing. Don't be late. Ellie, walk me to my car, perhaps I can offer you some ideas on the subject of cakes…" They left the gym side by side.

Carina just lay there, a crumpled heap trying to catch its breath, waiting. Sure enough, someone walked into the gym a few minutes later, someone capable of much greater stealth than she was displaying at the moment. "Well, look at what the cat dragged in," said Sarah. She knelt and pulled the tight mask off Carina's face, fingered her stringy hair. "Looks more like what the cat threw out." Fingers pushed against her jaw, moving Carina's face back and forth. "Stayed away from the face, I see. That's good, hate to have to explain a battered bridesmaid to the guests, but long sleeves are going to be needed, I think."

Carina looked into her best friend's eyes. "I'm sorry."

"I know you are, Carina, I know you are," said Sarah as softly. "Lucky for you I don't mind long sleeves." She slipped an arm under Carina's shoulders and hauled her up. "Come on you, let's get you into a hot tub or you'll be in no shape to protect anyone's assets tomorrow."

"I have seven wedding gowns in my closet," said Carina, hobbling along. "I think some of them have long sleeves…"

* * *

Morgan walked out the door in his Sunday finest, quite a trick, considering it wasn't Sunday. His hair was cut, his fingernails were trimmed, his teeth were brushed. His suit was a sober black pinstripe, new shirt, power tie, completely unlike anything else in his wardrobe. He looked fit to have dinner with the President. Which was good, since that's where he was going.

"Wow, Morgan! Hubba, hub-baaa…"

"Hey, Alex. I mean," Morgan cleared his throat, dropped his pitch to more somber tones. "Miss McHugh. You like?" He spun in place, a little jerky, like a robot that was winding down.

"You look good enough to eat," said Miss McHugh. "Which is good, because Mrs. Pendergast said if you missed breakfast one more time she'd serve you instead."

"She did?" he squeaked. "I mean, ahem, I believe these fine gentlemen had a word with her about while I was getting ready." The man with the dark glasses on nodded once. "See. All good."

"You got your medal?"

"Someone's been practicing their lockpicking skills, I see."

She paid more attention to Morgan's escort. "Where are you going?" she whispered.

"I –" 'Sunglasses' at his elbow coughed once. "I was about to say," said Morgan sharply, looking at him, "I can't go into details, it's classified."

Her face lost its glow, her eyes their sparkle. "Oh."

"Miss McHugh-Alex? What's wrong?" _Please don't let it be anything I did._

"Nothing, Morgan." She pushed past him, up the stairs and into the house.

"Alex—?" Morgan turned after her.

Sunglasses stopped him. "We have to go, sir."

She turned in the doorway. "Have a nice time." Then she closed him out.

* * *

**A/N2 **This is the end of the second sub-arc of this story, from Cover Identities to here, a block of episodes I'm calling 'He Has That Effect On People'. The last arc will hopefully be less plot-heavy.


End file.
